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report on american city 119n: 2011-08-14

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Saturday, August 20, 2011. By Steven B. Fuson. Covered by the Ray Conniff Singers, I set my jaw, retrieved the Pledge and started with the wood furniture. As I walked back into the house thinking about Carol, I realized that I was singing “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” – the Ray Conniff arrangement. Steven B. Fuson. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). TIL ❤ [Heart] Transmission, v. 1. Steven B. Fuson.

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report on american city 119n: Moto-Recall

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Thursday, September 8, 2011. By Steven B. Fuson. 8220;Howya doing today? 8221; smirked the parking attendant as he squinted against the water splashing off my shaved head. I grunted and rolled through, donating my change to the parking comedian relief fund. The swarm also seemed to suspend the rushing of the wind and replace it with a deep silence. A silence that seemed extracted from an ecstasy-enhanced Hindustani-influenced techno joint perfectly positioned and performed to elicit primordial abando...

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report on american city 119n: 2011-07-24

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Friday, July 29, 2011. Your Summer Vacation on Earth. This is your captain. Welcome to the end of July in Albuquerque, NM. Albuquerque, New Mexico is the name of the sprawling aggregate of living beings, sentient and non-sentient, their habitations, associated industry, infrastructure and other three-dimensional manifestations now live preview-screening on telepathic-link channel 137. We passed through some of its higher vibratory states about. Since it is monsoon season. I am a local blogger.". A combin...

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report on american city 119n: Slip Space

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Saturday, August 20, 2011. By Steven B. Fuson. Covered by the Ray Conniff Singers, I set my jaw, retrieved the Pledge and started with the wood furniture. As I walked back into the house thinking about Carol, I realized that I was singing “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” – the Ray Conniff arrangement. Steven B. Fuson. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). TIL ❤ [Heart] Transmission, v. 1. Steven B. Fuson.

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report on american city 119n: 2011-07-10

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Friday, July 15, 2011. About tarzan in the wilderness of waters. Let me tell you something about water. I am fascinated by its absence and here in the desert it has been a thing which I have both feared and revered. Its lack of abundance has been a guidepost in my life. A dweller of mesas and arroyos, water represents something that is both formidable and sacred to me. And not being able to believe that so much water could gather in one place. Digging up clay from the ground. At the helm of. The old man ...

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report on american city 119n: 2011-06-12

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Saturday, June 18, 2011. A division bar for ghosts. I moved to Albuquerque thirty-three years ago - just in time to start the seventh grade at. Just in time to enjoy the state fair. Back then, Eisenhower was in the middle of nowhere and the state fair was a lot more rustic than it is. Cows wandered through both of those environments and long-haired newcomers did too. Some of the other people who settled there had planted a wide variety of. One side of the arroyo was filled with sage and succulents and lo...

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report on american city 119n: Not One of Us

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Wednesday, September 7, 2011. Not One of Us. The doctor I visited asked had I ever undergone surgery. He worked in a building on Gibson Avenue, near the airbase. The building he worked in was near the very spot where the first American astronauts came to have tests done, before each got the chance to roar into space on the tip of a large flaming stick. The astronauts came to Albuquerque in the late 1950s to be examined by a doctor named. William R. Lovelace. A place in America, coincidentally, where.

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report on american city 119n: 2011-08-21

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Friday, August 26, 2011. By Steven B. Fuson. Print over the white brick fireplace. As I stared into the glass, I overheard a couple of the high school girls whisper about how. He was and that they would have hooked-up with him in an instant and that they could not understand how she could give him up for. Steven B. Fuson. By Steven B. Fuson. I wallow in it of course. Why have I settled for mere survival, nourished only on the scraps you sporadically slop into my trough? Steven B. Fuson.

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report on american city 119n: my name is a number is a bird, darkly

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Sunday, September 4, 2011. My name is a number is a bird, darkly. One time, I wrote to you amidst the starry, provocatively celestial and wind-borne influence of night. Two dust-speckled birds lit on the mulberry tree in the garden. I heard a low and mournful whisper coming from the train yard. It weren't a ghost. When I spied Polaris, it was still spinning in one place, churning thorough eternity like the maelstroms that take boats down to Neptune's hidden garden. Seeing as how that idea gave me an ...

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The City of Smoking Mirrors: December 2013

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The City of Smoking Mirrors. Friday, December 20, 2013. Solstice: "The Sun is the Same in Relative Way". It's too late. The stars. Might as well be ashy. Even Upstate New York. Is far away. The days. Disappear like salt in a glass. Of water. And by. It's always dark, the greasy. City or the thick. Woody suburbs. Love's. Of all other possibilities. And a mere release. You and I could be. You don't seem different. Over the years. You. What’ll I say. Permanent darkness etched in me. Not the result of the.